


Hunting For (You)

by wakandan_wardog



Series: Wardog's WinterIron Week Fills [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Boys Kissing, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Making Out, The Winter Soldier Lurks When He Flirts, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark's Malibu Mansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 12:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20008048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakandan_wardog/pseuds/wakandan_wardog
Summary: The Soldier has cleared the last of his required therapies, been gifted a new arm, and turned loose. The first thing he wants is to show Tony, up close and personal. Of course, there's a certain winged pest that is going to interrupt.Day 5, prompts:Celebration / “Bad timing?” / Prosthetic Arms





	Hunting For (You)

The Malibu Mansion basement is a riot of color, light projections dripping from the ceiling like a tangle of Christmas lights, seemingly garbled and forgotten. At least for a moment, because God knows Tony is never still for long. The genius is always moving, thinking and creating and building, graceful hands and quicksilver mind. He’s most at home here, among the work tables and the high concrete ceilings, the array of cars along the far left wall, the armory through manufacturing to his right. 

The Winter Soldier steps off the last stair and strides across the space of the garage, passing the sitting area without giving it so much as a glance. He has little care for his surroundings, stalking past the collection of cars in search of a pair of workboots projecting out from under them. There’s no sign, clearly, the vehicles lost on being Tony’s project of the day. Winter momentarily considers pushing them out of his way, reveling in the crash of metal and glass and fiberglass that would result from the abrupt motion. He knows the sound alone would attract his genius, but ultimately such dramatics aren’t exactly necessary. His pretty little engineer is somewhere in the room, he just has to be patient enough to find where. 

JARVIS had said he was here, which meant it was true but so far Winter hadn’t caught sight of so much as a hair. Knowing Tony, if he wasn’t sprawled beneath one of the vehicles, he was hunched behind one of the worktables, or half-in one of the armors in the next bay. 

The sitting area and garage section clear, the Soldier moved onward, angling toward the next section of the garage. Maybe he was in design or building mode, perched at the work table in the office-like space walled off at the back corner. It earned the room a narrow-eyed glare through the door, but when it was empty too. 

“Kitten,” He rumbled, running low on patience, hands curling into fists with the desire to clench in tumbled brunet waves. “Where are you?”

“Snowflake, that you?” Tony hollers excitedly as the Soldier steps into the armory, and suddenly there’s a scramble as the genius untangles himself from the nearest hanging torso. 

The goal in sight the Soldier draws to a halt just out of reach, watching the thin black barrier of the genius’s tank top climb up his torso as he momentarily gets caught up in the armor plates he was fidgeting with. Shirt extricated and smoothed back over his stomach, Tony bounces forward with a manic grin and ruffled hair, his forearms streaked with oil and scattered with minor spark spots and burns. 

“Welding without gear again?” Dmitri rumbles disapprovingly, reaching out with both hands. He makes a show of turning both palms out, beckoning. “Come here to me, котенок.” 

Tony goes still, eyes fixing on the dark metal arm with thin lines of gold showing through the plate breaks and articulation lines. Shuri wasn’t going to finish applying vibranium to Tony’s latest rendition of the arm until Winter had cleared their final evaluations. Which meant Winter had finished his B.A.R.F. therapy program and cleared an eval with a Wakandan specialist. 

“You passed?” Tony gives him a shy look, moving forward to rest his fingertips in the outstretched palms. “Dmitri? It’s still you?”

“Still me,” The Winter Soldier promised, reeling in his mechanic with delight. “Even now the Captain is being advised of this.” 

“So you’re mine all mine,” Tony croons, allowing his Soldier to drag his hands upward and interlace his fingers behind Dmitri’s neck. “And it seems like you want my hands out of the way.”

“I am all yours,” Dmitri confirms, patting the now-laced digits and then sliding his palms up Tony’s arms to his shoulders, then down his back to his waist. “And I do, at this moment, want them to stay there.” 

Before he can ask why the Soldier has slid hands down to his thighs and lifted, and Tony can do nothing but wrap his legs around leather-clad hips and cling. Recovering from his subsequent squeak and a tensing of his muscles, Tony musters up a flirty grin. “Good gracious, how forward of you.” 

“I have plans,” Dmitri explains, carrying his pet engineer to the nearest worktable and perching him on it, but keeping the clinging thighs where they are. “Plans that involve you and me, only.” 

“Extensive plans?” Tony asks hopefully, leaning into the kiss as it’s offered to him. 

“Mhmm,” Dmitri rumbles, scattering kisses over his lover’s jaw before planting a quick one on lush lips. “A celebration, very exclusive.” 

“I love a good party,” His mechanic purrs, fingers clasping and drawing him down into a more thorough kiss. “I wouldn’t dare refuse.” 

Flashing white teeth in a smile that’s equal parts playful and wicked, Dmitri leans in for another kiss. It never lands, because Sam Wilson soars in through the flight tunnel often reserved for Iron Man, and lands with a flare of mechanical wings. “Stark this new pack is great but there’s a couple of issues I need to be ironed out before Cap and I-”

The Soldier shoots him a glare, hand reaching for the pistol at his thigh even as Tony scrambles to capture his hands and the Falcon freezes. The three of them are suddenly suspended in an awkward tableau: the Soldier nearly leaning against the worktable with a hand on his gun, Tony sitting on the work table and wrapped around his Soldier with a hand preventing him from drawing the weapon, and Sam halfway across the room with his wings out and his mouth open. 

“Oh,” Wilson says after several heartbeats. “Bad timing?”

A moment later an Avengers Level Alert is triggered, and there are blaring alarms and flashing lights filling the room. Tony sags like a puppet with cut strings, slumping against Winter’s chest with a protesting groan. “The worst timing… Always the worst timing.” 

“Not the way I wanted to try the new arm,” Dmitri muses, dropping a kiss to the ruffled waves behind Tony’s ear. “At any rate, better than throttling Steve’s pet bird, hmm? Get dressed, котенок, I will make you strip for me later.” 

“It’s always working dates with you,” Tony laments as he wriggles off the table and slides down his Soldier’s body to stand on the floor. “I swear, the romance is gone. Maybe I'll be tired later, then what?” 

“I’ll make it up to you later.” The Soldier promises. "You can be tired _after_."

“Guys, I’m standing _right_ here.”

Tony flips him the bird, stalking across the room to snatch up his latest set of tech bracelets. “Oh shut up, Wilson, you’re the one who crashed our private party.” 

“Believe me, next time I’ll call ahead.” 

Dmitri shoots him a snarling grin, teeth white as he bares them in threat. “You had _better_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Another quick fill because I really liked the ideas but just ran out of time this week!  
> Котенок- Kitten


End file.
